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<title>Friendship Beneath Starry Skies by FictionPenned</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27340684">Friendship Beneath Starry Skies</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/FictionPenned/pseuds/FictionPenned'>FictionPenned</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Critical Role (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 00:27:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,042</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27340684</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/FictionPenned/pseuds/FictionPenned</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“Hi there,” she says to Frumpkin, kneeling down and placing a hand gingerly on the cat’s back. Though she quite likes Frumpkin, she has not quite mastered the art of petting him. He is so small that she is afraid that she might accidentally hurt him, cast him back into the poof of nothingness into which he sometimes retreats, so she barely moves her hand. The cat compensates, arching his back and flicking his tail back and forth as he circles her, scratching an unreachable itch and lending his throat to a gentle, whirring purr. “What are you doing up so late?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“We thought we’d ask if you wanted some company.” The answer comes from somewhere behind her, and Yasha turns around to face the speaker.</em>
</p><p>Written for Fic In A Box 2020.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Caleb Widogast &amp; Yasha</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Fic In A Box</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Friendship Beneath Starry Skies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/EternalEclipse/gifts">EternalEclipse</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">The night sky is spread out above the sleeping forms of the party — a vast darkness sprinkled with tiny, glittering stars. Yasha stares up at that sky as she stands watch. considering its inky depth, its overwhelming expanse, and the many times that she and her wife had swapped fond smiles while bathed in the silvery light of the moon. Sadness shimmers in the corners of her eyes, but something wends about her feet — soft and furry and bearing a curling tail — and she chases her tears away with a blink and a firm upper lip.</p><p class="p1">“Hi there,” she says to Frumpkin, kneeling down and placing a hand gingerly on the cat’s back. Though she quite likes Frumpkin, she has not quite mastered the art of petting him. He is so small that she is afraid that she might accidentally hurt him, cast him back into the poof of nothingness into which he sometimes retreats, so she barely moves her hand. The cat compensates, arching his back and flicking his tail back and forth as he circles her, scratching an unreachable itch and lending his throat to a gentle, whirring purr. “What are you doing up so late?”</p><p class="p1">“We thought we’d ask if you wanted some company.”</p><p class="p1">The unexpected answer rises from somewhere behind her, and Yasha turns to face the speaker. Caleb stands behind her with his hands almost sheepishly shoved into the worn pockets of his coat, the toe of his boot pawing a trench in the ground in front of him. Caleb has always been a bit nervous around the rest of the party, and Yasha — sensing some of herself in that fear —has been making a conscious effort to reach out to him. Her help is often ungainly, and she knows that, however, she hopes that some of the genuineness cradled within it still manages to cut through his walls.</p><p class="p1">She desperately wants to be his friend, after all.</p><p class="p1">It’s a good thing, to have friends in a world that can so often be unkind to those that live in it.</p><p class="p1">A small smile flits across her lips, and she nods. “I’d like that.”</p><p class="p1">Caleb’s relief is evident as a harried, “Oh, good,” spills from his mouth and his throat and his lungs so quickly that it is a wonder that he does not choke on it.</p><p class="p1">Careful not to crush the cat, Yasha slowly sinks onto the rock on which she has been standing, crossing her legs and maneuvering the bulk of her sword out of the way as she sits. Almost immediately, Frumpkin hops into her lap and curls into a tight, loudly purring ball of fur and fluff and warmth. Caleb is markedly less certain, and doesn’t take a seat until Yasha reaches out to pat a spot on the rock beside her, explicitly inviting him to join her.</p><p class="p1">“I — I take it that sleep had a hard time finding you?” Yasha asks softly. She doesn’t really expect him to answer her, but much to her surprise, he does.</p><p class="p1">“Something like that. There are some days the fire’s too hot and I just need to get away, you know?” It is spoken with the earnestness of a universal experience, but despite the furrowed intensity of her thought as she stretches back into the past, Yasha cannot remember ever wanting to flee from the comfort of a campfire. Fire means light and safety and protection. It is something to be huddled around with the people you care about, something to be summoned on a dark night to keep out the cold. It is not something to be run from, unless, of course, it is being used as a weapon or running across the landscape without regard for the people who have built their homes upon it. She has seen the control that Caleb holds over fire, the energy with which he casts his spells, and she is shocked that someone who works so closely with the element has developed a fear of it.</p><p class="p1">If she was a bit nosier, she might have begun to pick through theories or ask prying questions, but she is inclined to let him come to her on his own terms. It is not her place to demand anyone’s stories, only to provide a comforting presence in which they might be allowed to exist for a while. After all, she has her own secrets that she keeps from the group — her own fears and griefs and cursed past that she carries not only within the strict confines of her mind, but deep within her bones.</p><p class="p1">“I get that,” she says, even though she doesn’t.</p><p class="p1">Caleb nods, scratching at a bit of caked mud on the side of his nose. Yasha eyes the motion out of the corner of her eye, amazed, as always, at the man’s strange propensity for collecting dirt. The entire party travels the same roads, yet no one else seems to get as grimy as the wizard.</p><p class="p1">“Do you want to talk about it?” she asks after a long, thoughtful silence.</p><p class="p1">Caleb sighs — heavy and long. “Not really. It’s not you. It’s just…it’s me. There are some things that are too difficult to talk about, even now, with you.”</p><p class="p1">It is Yasha’s turn to nod. “You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to, but if I’m here when you are, I’m willing to keep your secrets safe from the others.”</p><p class="p1">In the corner of her eye, she sees the flicker of a smile as it takes up residence on Caleb’s face.</p><p class="p1">“Thank you,” he says, dropping from the common tongue and into the Celestial that only they share.</p><p class="p1">Yasha, too, smiles, turning her eyes up towards the comforting, velvety expanse of the sky once more. “I’m glad we are friends, Caleb,” she speaks back to him in reply.</p><p class="p1">Caleb lapses into slightly disarmed silence, and Frumpkin’s steady purrs grow louder — rising to fill the empty, silent space between them.</p><p class="p1">After a long time — so long, in fact, that the moon shifts in the sky and the direction of the wind changes — Caleb says, “I think I like being your friend, Yasha.”</p><p class="p1">Yasha smiles and casts her fate in friendship and cats and the stars themselves.</p>
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